


Political Dissonance

by CrookedRook



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-26 02:33:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21366730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrookedRook/pseuds/CrookedRook
Summary: Tables turn when Mayor Steven Grisham is the next victim of the robot attacks, with all his past allies suddenly turned against him and not being the most trusted man in town, one unlikely soul had decided to lend a hand in the form of his former political rival.
Relationships: Ron Begley & Steven Grisham
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Political Dissonance

The painkillers wore off halfway up the mountain, and as the car bounced over a small pothole in the road Grisham, laid out across the backseat, couldn't stop the groan of pain as the car rocked, and the movement made his throbbing body ache. Ron glanced back at him through the rearview mirror.

"Almost, there." he said unhelpfully, Grisham swore he was grinning, so he just replies with a groan through gritted teeth, and a sharp glare that he hopes Ron could feel through the headrest. Though it wasn't that impressive through the black eye, bruising the left side of his face.

"Look on the bright side, when we get there it should be time for your next dose." Ron tossed over his shoulder, and took a turn in the road carefully. Unlike the man currently taking up the backseat of his hatchback, he wasn’t a complete ass.

It had been at least an hour since he was released from the hospital, and a little over twenty four hours since the attack.

Clearly his old allies didn't need him anymore, and had no qualms about permanently removing him from the picture altogether. There's only so much a pretty face and a shitty roundhouse technique can do against two high tech robots. 

It was pure luck that Sheriff Troy and the newly deputized Tim Jensen had arrived before-TimBot, Tim1000, or whatever he was called now- could snap him in half. Though it had already managed to dislocate his shoulder, crack three of his ribs, and nearly break his nose, he didn't want to think about what would have happened if someone hadn't reported the lights above his house or, god forbid, if the female bot was there as well.

Karma must be catching up with him, to finally put him in a position where he's the powerless one for once. Forced to go into hiding, with no place to go and everyone who once protected his position suddenly turned against him. His home had been practically destroyed, and they knew where his other safehouses were. So he had no choice but to turn to one unlikely source that volunteered to help.

"Here we are, home sweet home." 

A source that involved him in the back of Ron Begley's old hatchback, and staying in his family's winter cabin in the woods on the other side of the lake. It sure as hell wasn't a five star lodge, a simple looking wooden cabin, but at least it was well cared for. Grisham was honestly expected something more decrepit. Luckily for Grisham, Ron had been keeping up on the uptake of the cabin long before his finances were being threatened. 

As Ron cut the engine and made to get out of the car, Grisham had already carefully sat himself upright and had already opened the car door on his side, breathing carefully as he tried to stand. Ron rounded to car to the passenger side and ducked down to wrap Grisham’s good arm around his broad shoulders, and more or less carried the man up the porch steps and to the door, leaving him to lean against the door frame as Ron fished the keys from his pocket.

Inside was what one would expect from a place that was rarely lived in, photos and small trinkets dotted the walls, the only thing that looked new was the american flag decorated in the pride colors that hung over an unlit fireplace.

"You can sleep in there." Ron said, jerking his head towards the bedroom door behind him, as he placed his duffle bag on the counter and rifled through it for Grisham's prescription.

"We'll getcha' better situated tomorrow, don't know if anyone's told you this yet," he shook out two pills, and filled a glass with water, "but you look like shit."

Grisham only gave him a withering stare and snatched the cup from his hand. He took a couple painful swallows to wash the pills down, and slammed the glass on the counter. There wasn't much time to collect anything of Grisham's, with having to immediately go into hiding, they hadn’t the time to go back to his house to pick through the wreckage to grab any belongings.

Luckily he seemed to be a mixture of too drugged out and exhausted to complain about sleeping in his clothes, since he already hasn’t said anything about the tears in his clothes, or the dried blood speckled all over the front of his shirt. His own clothes were far too big on Grisham, he also wanted to avoid the little weasel greasing up the rest of his stuff. He didn’t know if being a crooked politician was contagious, but he didn’t want to risk anymore exposure than necessary. 

“I’m heading back into town to meet with Sheriff Troy, I’ll be back probably by noon tomorrow, and I’ll see what I can get for you after they clear the scene.” Ron said, after emptying the contents of the bag on the counter. There wasn’t much besides a couple bottles of water and some granola bars. Grisham on the other hand didn’t reply. He was in too much pain to give a damn about manners as this point, and instead he hobbled towards the guest room and slammed the door shut behind him.

Ron shrugged and turned the lights out as stepped outside and made sure the heating was at least on, the air was getting colder at night as winter approached and he didn’t want to go to all this trouble just to have the man freeze to death at night.

Grisham had managed to finally crawled into bed by the time he heard Ron’s car rumble back down the mountain, and found a position that didn't make his chest twinge. The medication had started to kick in. He began to drift off, and asked for some minor miracle that this would all just be some bad medicated dream. But, with how his luck was starting to turn out, he highly doubted the cards were in his favor this time.

**Author's Note:**

> Strange ideas lie within the moments when you're supposed to get out of bed, and instead just lie in the dark for fifteen more minutes. Even I don't even really know where I'm going to go with this, but I just couldn't get the idea out of my head and now here we are.
> 
> Let me hear your thoughts, comments, and what not. I also apologize for any grammar mistakes this wasn't really proof read or beta'd, so let me know which ones you spot. More tags will be added once i get into the swing of things, also let me know if any needed to be added as well.


End file.
